He's seventeen, he's like a machine. He's of steel, he's a cog in the wheel, a spine so steep, he'd never weep but you could buy him pretty cheap. Didn't fit in school. A stupid rule made him a fool. But bragging bold what he's been told, that's his gold. A perfect master's tool. Dignity is astray if you can pay. He would even gladly go the easy way out, line of least resistance. He's the king of cash. He's a gold digger soldier. Unknowingness are hurting less, won't be a mess. Affordability and getting things for free is of importance, to be fed on champagne and get it directly in the vein. A perfect master's tool. He's a puppet in a show, just an undertow. (But) he doesn't know.
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